


My Unchoreographed Valentine

by StrictlyFromCorn (orphan_account)



Series: Fred Astaire x Ginger Rogers [18]
Category: 20th Century CE RPF, Actor RPF, Astaire/Rogers RPF, Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers Movies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrictlyFromCorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred and Ginger have a disagreement, which causes them to sit on the sofas in the living room until three in the morning, in complete silence, until Ginger accidentally flicks the gramophone and Frank Sinatra's latest song plays - "My Funny Valentine".</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Unchoreographed Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'd like to say that it's real nice to be back to writing fluffy stuff for Fred and Ginger. (Believe me, I've been writing tons, but it's all sad and angsty and depressing in general. Ouch.)  
> Secondly, yeah, I know, timelines and such, with Frank's "My Funny Valentine" coming out a lot later than that, but just bend them a little in your mind, please?  
> Thirdly, the next chapter of "Dancing in the Dark" will be up soon, so don't worry! :) I'm almost halfway there already!  
> Please enjoy, comment, and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! <3

                It was three in the morning and neither of them was sure why they were still up, considering that they both had to be at the studio at seven. In the past, Fred had always made sure to get a good night’s sleep before rehearsals – because he knew from experience that sleep affected his coordination, and he’d often told Ginger the same thing, but the two of them had completely disregarded that as they sat opposite from each other on the living room sofas.

                The two had had a disagreement earlier on, although it was over something so insignificant that, five hours later, they couldn’t even remember what it was about. Nevertheless, it had driven the couple to complete silence, with neither of them wanting to be the first to apologize or to go to bed. Of course, going to bed entailed all the awkwardness brought on by every couples’ argument – whether or not to say “good night” when leaving the living room, sleeping facing away from each other, and the close physical proximity, among other things.

                So, Fred and Ginger had decided to sit it out even though they were both dead tired. He continued to flip through the same magazine for at least the twentieth time, determined not to raise his hazel gaze to meet his dancing partner’s. The tabloid was getting worn thin under his large hands, and the dancer had grown bored with it ages ago – as a matter of fact, he had just about memorized every word of it by that point.

                Meanwhile, Ginger was doing all she could to keep her eyes open. Falling asleep on the couch was obviously going to leave her sore in the morning, and at that moment, she didn’t trust Fred to carry her back into the bedroom. Perhaps the word “trust” shouldn’t have been used – she didn’t necessarily _want_ him to do so, out of her own pride and refusal to admit that she was wrong in the earlier discussion.

                The dancer had caught herself on the verge of dozing off more than a few times, but every time, Ginger managed to wake herself up and return to sitting upright. Each time, she cast a hasty glance in Fred’s direction, hoping that he hadn’t seen her about to fall asleep, and each time, he was staring intently at the magazine and didn’t notice a thing. Or, at least, he pretended not to.

                The gramophone that they owned was right next to the sofa Ginger was sitting on, and when she nearly fell asleep again, her hand accidentally flicked the switch and the vinyl record started spinning. The two dancers nearly jumped out of their seats as the strains of Frank Sinatra’s latest song suddenly and loudly filled the living room.

                Frank was a great friend to both of them – he had attended almost all the premieres of their movies without fail, and in return, Fred and Ginger were always there at his concerts. Sometimes, the singer even showed up at their house at the crack of dawn, after a night of partying, wanting breakfast.

                _My funny Valentine, sweet comic Valentine…_

                “Sorry. The—uh, the…” Ginger struggled to find the switch to turn the gramophone off, scolding herself inwardly for the fact that it had just increased the awkwardness between her and Fred. “Where is the switch—?”

                “Wait.” He threw the magazine down and stood up all of a sudden, a broad smile overtaking his face.

                _You make me smile with my heart…_

                “Yes?” Ginger stared at her dancing partner, although a small seed of hope had started to grow within her as she saw Fred smile. Did that mean that he was over being upset with her? In the back of her mind, she wanted to be arrogant—to say “I told you so” and refuse to talk to him, but Ginger knew that she could never turn down Fred.

                “I have an idea.” He nearly stumbled over the coffee table in his haste to get to Ginger’s side. “Dance with me.” Those three magic words sent an indescribable thrill though her heart. Dancing was so much more than a social activity for the two of them – it was their livelihood, after all, and they had spent countless hours together, doing just that. But this dance that Fred proposed was free of the constraints of anything that they did in the studio. It didn’t have to be groundbreaking, or creative, or fancy, or look good on any cameras. It was purely for fun – for the two of them.

                _Your looks are laughable, unphotographable…_

                “I… well, I…” Ginger could barely speak in her surprise, although the grin on her face and her nodding told him all he needed to know.

                _Yet, you’re my favorite work of art…_

                “Well, for goodness’ sake, Ginge, this song is only two minutes and thirty seconds long!” Fred laughed out loud and took her by the hands, assuming the familiar dance position that they had spent many, many hours in. Frank’s crooning vocals provided the perfect atmosphere for the two dancers as they started to dance their way around the somewhat cramped living room, nevertheless, enjoying themselves immensely.

                _Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak, are you smart?_

                Somehow, neither of them found it odd to be dancing to Frank’s song like that, even though he was a close friend. For a moment, Fred and Ginger both disregarded the fact that they were the almighty Astaire and Rogers and allowed themselves to be ordinary people on the dance floor – just for once. The dance was unchoreographed, something which he never would have allowed in public or in front of the cameras, but in his own living room, with the girl he loved the most, Fred threw that rule out of the window.

                _But don’t change a hair for me, not if you care for me…_

                The scene could have been right out of one of their movies, and Ginger was quite sure that no one would believe that they had spent the last few hours in a sullen silence before the accidental flick of the switch changed things. Dancing with Fred didn’t tire her out; it made all her fatigue evaporate into thin air and she were walking on clouds. Honestly. That was the only way to describe it.

                _Stay, little Valentine, stay! Each day is Valentine’s Day._

As the tempo of the song picked up, so did the pace of their dance. Fred had never felt so confident with a dancing partner before, not even Adele, and certainly not in a romantic way. He could try different things and trust Ginger to be able to follow him, because she was _so_ talented and because she seemed to know instinctively what he wanted to do. It was as if they had one mind and one body.

                _Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak, are you smart?_

                Their disagreements and misunderstandings melted away with every dance step they took, as Fred brought her even closer in the dance hold and Ginger couldn’t help but laugh out loud again. “Oh, Freddie.” She wondered how she could’ve doubted him for a moment – how she didn’t want him to touch her, even, just five minutes ago. They loved each other far too much for those silly little misunderstandings.

                _But don’t change a hair for me… Not if you care for me._

                When the song slowed down again, Fred adjusted the speed of their dance accordingly, guiding Ginger into a graceful, but simple spin. Their gazes were locked in a mixture of feelings of passion, romance, and adoration for each other – it was only natural that he started to lean in for a kiss.

                They’d lost count of the number of times they had kissed in the past, but it never failed to thrill both of them immensely whenever their lips met. Fred tilted his head slightly to the right to make sure that their noses didn’t bump, but he needn’t have worried. Just like with the dancing, Ginger could tell exactly what he was going to do when they kissed – they had that kind of intimate bond that every couple wished for but only a few actually did have.

                Fred proceeded to make sure that her bottom lip was in-between his own lips as he brushed his tongue lightly over hers, feeling the instant gratification from the action, brought on by the stimulation of all those nerve endings. In response, Ginger wrapped her arms around her dancing partner even more tightly, not willing to let go of him for the world. She wanted to feel every muscle in his body, every inch of his skin – even though they had done that before, the immense satisfaction of being kissed filled her with that desire again.

                _Stay, little Valentine, stay! Each day is Valentine’s day…_

                The record ended, leaving them both in silence, but neither of them seemed bothered in the slightest. Fred took a step backward and gently placed Ginger on the couch, without breaking contact and ending the kiss. He sat down next to her, _so_ glad that she had flicked the switch and led to all that.

                “What were we even… disagreeing… about?” She inquired in-between a flurry of kisses from Fred as their foreheads touched and they continued to bring their lips towards each others’.

                “Don’t remember.” His answer was short and slightly out of breath from all the kissing. “Don’t care, either.” Again, their lips met, over and over, neither of them wanting the good feeling from the smooches to wear away just yet. The thrill of just having each other there – and the knowledge that they were truly and genuinely in love, was something that both Fred and Ginger wanted to make the most out of.

                “I don’t, either.” With that, she started to reach for his necktie and undid it in a swift motion, hinting at her intentions.

                “I guess neither of us—“ Another kiss. “Is gonna make it—“ Fred’s hand reached towards her skirt. “To the studio in the morning.” With his free hand, he continued to caress her cheek.

                “No, I guess not.”


End file.
